


Blindsided

by RafeAdler



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death, Graphic Description, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Temporary Character Death, The Arena, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-06 20:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8768530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RafeAdler/pseuds/RafeAdler
Summary: Uncharted AU based on Multiplayer
Whenever the bright light flashes in his eyes, Rafe can't remember those around him but for his allies. He finds himself in a space that's fill with death, chaos, and he doesn't understand what is happening. Yet every time he finds himself there, a man among the people that want him dead seems to stop. To look at him. To speak to him. Sometimes they're alone together. Sometimes they're in the crowd, at each other's gunpoint. Rafe is confused. He's angry. He's full of rage.
And he's excited.





	1. Found Player

It always started with a bright light, one that seemed to engulf Rafe’s entire body. When the light began, he felt his lungs filling up with air for the first time, and he relished in it, feeling his chest rise and fall and expand with new breath, new life. The light glittered and scattered into various colors, and then shapes blinked into existence. It was always blurry at first, Rafe would raise a hand to cover his eyes, squinting between his fingers. Things took shape, creating an image, a world of sorts, around him. Everything came into existence with him, all at once, and Rafe felt himself come to life. The fuzz of his vision cleared out, and Rafe looked down. In his hands was a machine gun. He fiddled with it, raising a brow. A pistol was in his holster. He couldn’t figure out why…

            Looking up, the lights gleamed. He was on a little balcony rooftop, spotlights lighting up the roof. He took a few steps out, head peeking out from within the balcony. Rafe couldn’t figure why he was there. Should he call to someone? He had a gun, though. What if that meant someone out there was dangerous?

            He doubled back into the balcony when he heard the tiles of the roof of the balcony shift above him. Scrambling back, Rafe pinned himself against the wall. He held up his gun, staring at the edge of the balcony. Two feet appeared above, then legs. Rafe felt his breath hitch in his throat, eyes locked on the legs.

            Then she dropped in. Familiar curling hair, intense expression, dark eyes.

            “Nadine…” Rafe lowered his gun. He had always kept aloof, but now he was worried. She looked as though she had been through hell. Cuts all over her arms and torso and face, blood staining her shirt and trousers. Her gun slung over her shoulder and her own pistol in her hand.

            “Took you a while there,” she commented. She gestured to him up and down. “You look clean of it.”

            “Clean of…?” Rafe drifted to her side, leaning on the balcony. “Nadine, what the hell is going on here?” He let his thumb brush over the pistol on his hip. The meaning of it was beyond him.

            “You always seem to forget,” Nadine replied. She took a sweep around the balcony, her gun notched and ready to fire. “No more of that now. We don’t have time for this.”

            “Time for what?” Rafe looked up at her. “Nadine, you tell me what is happening or I swear—”

            “Swear what?” Nadine lowered her gun, leaning on the wall. Rafe saw her wounds press up to the stone and it took everything in him not to wince. He had rarely ever seen Nadine look like this. There was a dead look in her eye, and she brushed some blood off her cheek. “We don’t have a choice in this, Rafe. We kill them, or they kill us.”

            “Who kills what?” Rafe took a step back. Nadine’s eyes looked down at his feet, then back up into his eyes.

            “You don’t remember any of it?” she asked.

            “No, I don’t.” Rafe’s voice shook.

            Nadine was about to speak when she stopped, staring past Rafe. Her gun instantly raised, and she walked to Rafe, pushing him against the wall of the balcony. In his surprise, Rafe gripped the gun to his chest, watching her with wide eyes as she peeked her own head out of the balcony and aimed her gun around. “I thought I saw…”

            Bullets buried into the walls around them, making Rafe jump. Nadine pushed him further into the wall, sitting him in the corner. Dust and micro debris from the walls filled the little space, and Rafe closed his eyes. Everything in him was hoping, was praying, that it was a dream. It would all be over and he would be in that bright light again and the air would fill his lungs in a way that this air could not do. How he wanted that experience, desired to leave from whatever he had just entered. Everything was better in that light. Already he was thrust in the middle of something he did not understand.

            “You take them out, Rafe!” Nadine fired her gun, focused on someone in the distance. Rafe peeked out but couldn’t tell who it was from where he stood. “You’re sure we just… we just do that?”

            “Rafe!”

            “Okay, okay!”

            Rafe ducked down around Nadine to one of the other entryways to the balcony. Hoisting himself up onto the railing, he climbed onto the roof. Laying on his stomach, he crawled to the other end of the balcony’s roof and looked around, resting his gun in a comfortable position in front of him. Down below there were more roofs, connecting and winding around. It must be some kind of mansion, and they were right on a corner pocket.

            Nadine hit the man in the distance. Rafe watched him fold, hiding behind something. Rafe caught a look at the man checking his wounds. Why was he after them? Who wanted to hurt them and why? A few faces appeared in his mind, but they drifted as soon as he thought of them. He didn’t know anyone, couldn’t imagine anyone at all who would want them dead. Looking back onto the rooftops before him, his eyes caught movement. Leaning in, Rafe’s eyes narrowed. Someone was crouched behind a wall, leaning out to look towards the balcony where Nadine was. She was still firing at the first man they saw, so Rafe took a breath and adjusted his position. He just had to aim, fire, keep Nadine safe. That seemed easy enough.

            When his gun was aimed right, Rafe held his breath. He’d fired a gun before. He had pulled the trigger many times on people. This wasn’t anything new to him. So why did he feel so nervous? Something was holding him back and making him hesitate. Then he remembered Nadine was just below him. Nadine depended on him, needed him to keep her alive and going. He could not let her down.

            Bullets sprayed from his gun, colliding into the wall that the man was crouched behind, and, to Rafe’s satisfaction, into the man. The stranger went down, and Rafe stood up and smirked. He pulled his gun over his shoulder with its strap, and moved back down to Nadine. Her gunfire had stopped now, and she stood there waiting for him.

            “Good job,” she said. Her hand touched his shoulder. “Now you just gotta keep doing that. Okay?”

            “But why?” Rafe looked around. “Nadine where are we, what’s going on?”

            Blood filled Rafe’s vision. Over his face, his chest, arms, blood drenched him. Cold and wet and he raised a hand to his mouth. There wasn’t much left to say about Nadine’s head. It had burst, a bullet in her skull and blood all over the balcony, over herself, and over Rafe. As her body fell, Rafe fell as well. He crawled back from her fallen body, his stomach lurching. He leaned to the side and he threw up. It was disgusting, it was horrible and awful. “Nadine…?” He didn’t know what he was expecting. He wiped his mouth and looked back at her body.

            It wasn’t there.

            Rafe didn’t see any blood around. He looked down at himself, his hands, raised a hand to wipe his face. No blood. Nothing. He felt his breath grow ragged, vision fading in and out, and he closed his eyes. Her body was there. It was there, she was dead. Her head had caved in. She was there. She was. So where did she go? Where did all of it go?

            A gunshot was heard, and Rafe jerked back against the wall. He reached and took up his pistol. He felt he would vomit again. This wasn’t normal. Nadine was there. She was there. She was real. She had died. Where did she go? Where did it all go?

            Rafe felt dizzy. He leaned and checked out from the edge of the balcony. He saw someone approaching from across the rooftops. A sniper in his hands, approaching with slow steps, the gun raised. Rafe shook. This person was not a friend. The darkness had distorted anything to indicate who they were, but a spotlight was between them. He would have to get into the light in order to get a good aim on Rafe. And Rafe could know who he was.

            It seemed to last forever. Step after step, the sound of his feet on the roof, getting closer and closer. The tip of the sniper rifle entered the light, then his arms, then shoulders, legs. His face appeared, but obscured by the sniper rifle. Rafe knew it was risky, but he leaned out a little more, trying to get a better look.

            The man spotted him and jerked to aim, but then he stopped. Rafe stared, holding his breath. The sniper rifle lowered, and Rafe could clearly see the man’s face, bathed in the spotlight. A tired face, scars and cuts all over it. His hair was wild and tousled, shaggy and flitting about in the wind. He wore a nice brown t-shirt. His eyes met Rafe’s. They stared.

            Rafe didn’t recognize him. He remembered this man’s face, each line, the little twinkle in his eyes. But how did he know this man? He couldn’t remember much anything before the white light that caused him to enter this place. Fleeting images with no meaning at most. Yet this man seemed familiar. And he felt an urge to stand, fully exposing himself to the man who was now putting away the sniper rifle.

            “Rafe?” the man asked.

            “Y… Yes?” Rafe felt a tingle up his neck and he retreated. “Who are you?”

            “Rafe, it’s…” The man’s eyes darted to the side. “Wait, Elena don’t—”

            Rafe heard the click of a gun behind him. He froze. There wasn’t time to react.

            He felt a sting on the back of his neck, like he was pricked by a needle.

            Then he was bathed in white light.


	2. Loadout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is an interesting concept otl I did some explaining here

The high pitched screeching in Rafe’s ears was enough to cause him to slump down behind the stone wall, dropping his gun and covering his ears. His head was throbbing, blood was dripping down his forehead, his arm bleeding. He was dizzy, his breath was light. And beside him was a man with dark hair and a devious look in his eye, though he kept his expressions in a stern look. Atoq Navarro.

            “You better keep your head held high, little man.” His voice was low and chiding, and Rafe shifted where he sat. “We might actually win this one.” Navarro had been there for some time. He learned faces, knew names, explored the reaches of the land. There was a point where everything dropped off, and the only place you could go was back into the gunfire and the war around them.

            Rafe had been there for a few days. He hated the day, it was tiring and stressful. The night was the time to make camp, to eat, to rest and talk and feel like you could breathe even for a moment. Just before the sun rose, Navarro and Zoran would stand and pick their people. The first night was a blessing – everyone was present. Nobody had fallen. Now Rafe found himself alone with Navarro, Zoran, Nadine and Marlowe. That morning, Rafe was practically dragged from sleep by Navarro. They were taking a day to themselves, and Zoran went with Nadine and Marlowe. The gun was thrust in his hand and Navarro was eager to pull him by the collar to the heat of the battle.

            There was a calling in Rafe’s chest to stand and open his arms. He missed the bright light that appeared, the earliest thing he could remember. Yet no matter what he did, Navarro seemed determined to keep him going. “You gonna take them down?” he asked, glancing over to the other man.

            Navarro shook his head. “You see that point up there?” He gestured to a little bluff. Rafe looked it over. It looked easy enough to scale. “You’re gonna go up there. With this.”

            Rafe fumbled with the sniper that Navarro practically dumped in his lap. He hadn’t handled the rifle before – that had been Talbot’s job when he was alive. Rafe looked up, Navarro peeking over their shelter. It had grown quiet through hills, but they both knew their enemies were lurking, waiting, guns ready.

            “I don’t think I should—”

            “You’ll be fine, Adler.”

            “We could get Nadine?”

            Navarro raised a brow at Rafe. “You want me to go all the way around to get to her, then try to safely bring her back here?” He nodded when he was met with silence. “Get your ass up there, I’m not gonna tell you again.”

            Rafe didn’t like being pushed around – but Navarro had been here longer than Rafe had. So, he went to the rocks and climbed up. Crouching behind some piled rocks, Rafe propped the rifle up and nodded to Navarro. The glint of the sniper lens seemed to reassure the man on the ground, for he quickly ran ahead to a new position.

            That was when a head popped up. Rafe recognized it. One he had dealt with many times, danced around. He always felt angry when he saw this one. He didn’t know why. But he learned his name. Nathan.

            Rafe took the shot and watched a satisfied stream of blood from the head. Someone reacted to the left of the fallen body, and Rafe turned. Now gunfire below rose. There was a woman firing at Navarro, who was firing back. This woman was blonde. Rafe knew her as well. Elena. That was Nathan’s wife.

            “She landed someone pretty pathetic if he died this fast,” Rafe muttered. He scanned for a good opening for hitting Elena. She danced between different covers, and Rafe found himself struggling to get a good shot. Navarro kept firing, ducking down behind the cover. Rafe took instead to checking Navarro’s flanks, making sure nobody caught him by surprise. There were occasions in which people caught each other by surprise. The old man, Victor, had flanked Harry and killed him with his boot. That had been quite a sight.

            It took quite some time, but Rafe watched Navarro down Elena. She collapsed, and soon her body was missing like Nathan’s. Rafe was getting used to that. There wasn’t mourning here. There wasn’t burial. He didn’t know where the bodies went, but he wasn’t shocked to see the blood and the gore disappear. It was something that happened here. He wondered if they saw the bright light when they died like he wanted to see.

Navarro gestured for Rafe to come down from his place, then began to jog ahead. Standing up, Rafe looked around the area with his rifle. The land was mostly barren, gray and dark and cold. There wasn’t any movement, not even the dead plants in the breeze.

            Pulling the sniper rifle around his shoulders, Rafe made his way to the edge, turning to climb down. His mind was on the next destination – taking more territory. For the first time in a few days, they were showing promising signs. He was looking forward to seeing what would happen if they won. There were a few left. Rafe knew all their names. Chloe, Tenzin, Victor. That was all. He was sure of it.

            Yet he was surprised that when he was about to climb down he felt a hand drag him back to the back of the bluff.

            “What the hell!” He tried to shout but a hand clamped over him, muffling him. He would have bit, but he was classier than that. Only good blows. Low blows in emergencies. Besides, if this was an enemy, they would have just shot him. So what was this?

            Rafe felt a body behind him, warm and wrapping around him. An arm and two legs wound themselves around him and he closed his eyes a moment. The sniper rifle felt sharp and uncomfortable against his back.

            Then he felt a hand reach and pull his pistol out, tossing it down the bluff. Instantly, he began to struggle, legs kicking and arms pushing. The hands worked their way to keep his restrained and work the rifle off his back. The rifle was also thrown. That was when Rafe began to worry he was in danger. He hadn’t heard of anyone they were trying to kill taking hostages. Would that start now?

            “Let go of me,” he hissed. “Let go, let go let go!”

            “Rafe.” The voice was in his ear, gentle and it made Rafe freeze in his place.

            Turning his face, Rafe was caught up in the gleaming eyes of a man he didn’t recognize. He had never seen this man in their camp, so it was clear he was a part of the enemy group. Why he was holding Rafe down, and, Rafe noticed now, both of their guns scattered, was beyond him. “Who are…?”

            “Ah right…” The man shook his head and rolled his eyes. “The whole… memory thing…” He shifted them, Rafe’s legs tucking in and their bodies close. “It’s a little tough to explain but uhh… Well, I’ve been here a while and the last time you died, you were my boyfriend.”

            Rafe’s hand collided with the man’s cheek, managing to catch him by surprised. He rolled away, grasping for his pistol and pointing it at the man. This was not something he had experienced at all in his past few days. Died? The last time he died? Boyfriend?

            “Explain who you are, asshole,” Rafe said.

            The man raised his hands. “Hey it’s okay, it’s okay,” he replied. “My name is Sam. Samuel Drake. And I saw you killed my brother down there a bit ago…” He pointed down to where Navarro had been previously.

            Rafe raised a brow. “You’re not upset about that?”

            Sam shrugged. “I mean, yea I am,” he answered. “But the way things work around here? Nate’ll be back in no time.”

            “Back?”

            “Yeah.” Sam patted the ground beside him. “Now can you put the gun down and maybe talk to me?”

            This entire encounter was suspicious to Rafe. He kept in his place, watching Sam, who didn’t seem to be on edge or in a hurry to do anything. He could kill Sam right then and there, then go catch up with Navarro. They would regroup and make came with Zoran and Nadine and Marlowe. They would trade of Rameses’ hat, which was used as a way to signify who was keeping watch. Rafe would get his belly full of good food and he would sleep. They would continue tomorrow. He could just shut down this conversation and move on.

            Yet when he looked at that smile on Sam’s face, he was intrigued. So he lowered his gun and sat down, but it was clear that he was still cautious by how he kept his gun in his hand on his lap. “Talk then,” he said. “What did you mean by that? I died?”

            “That’s how this place works,” Sam said. He made a little circular motion in the air. “Repeat, repeat, repeat. And if you’re lucky, you’ll be brought to the next zone.”

            “Zone?”

            “Ah, you forgot it all..” Sam rubbed his face. “You’re the one who taught me all about this.”

            “I don’t remember that.” Rafe leaned back against some rock, watching Sam. “You’re sure you didn’t make all this bullshit up?”

            The laugh that came from Sam made Rafe’s stomach feel fuzzy. He couldn’t imagine why, yet the more he found himself by this man the more relaxed he was getting. They were in the middle of a strange world, a sort of hell, yet for the first time since leaving the white light, Rafe felt at ease.

            “I wish I made this all up,” Sam said. He looked Rafe over. Then his face grew gentle. “You got shot in the leg. I was doing some recon and I watched it happen. You fell and Chloe ran up and just…”

            Rafe didn’t know how to react when Sam’s hand reached up and touched his cheek. He felt curious and interested, but the touch was also strange and unfamiliar to him. He sat stiff, watching him, searching on Sam’s face. It all seemed genuine. Sam was convinced that he and Rafe were together once, that Rafe had died.

            “What happens when you die?” Rafe asked. His voice was a whisper.

            “You basically get wiped,” Sam replied. “You get plopped back here, forget everything, but you know everyone who is your ally. You learn things about your enemies, you fight, you kill. The thing resets, you live or die, you begin again. If you live to see the place reset, your allies and you winning, the enemies all dead? Then you get reset with all the enemies back and your dead allies back. You remember it all. The returning people? No memory at all.” He rested his head back against the stone. “I’ve been through one reset. You had been through three. Then you died. And we got reset.”

            The breeze picked up, the cold gray sky rolling overhead. Rafe crossed his arms, and for the first time that day he could see his breath. It always got cold enough at some point here.

            Sam shifted and sat up. “You wanna get somewhere warm?” he asked.

            “Like your camp?” Rafe asked, rolling his eyes. “Where the others will just ambush and kill me?”

            Sam grinned and stood. He held his hand out to Rafe, who eyed his dirty, rugged palm. “I mean the place we camped before we got reset,” he said. “Come on, it’s a nice and cozy little place. Just for us.”

            Rafe gave him an unimpressed look. “You’re not gonna flirt with me, are you?” he asked. He took Sam’s hand and they stood. He tucked his pistol in its holster. They both grabbed their guns, but did not hold them. Rafe felt reassured that Sam did not hold his. “Just because your deluded mind thinks we were together doesn’t mean I’m going to be with you.”

            Sam laughed and began to climb down the bluff. “Yeah, you weren’t easy then either,” he said. “But once I got you? I definitely had you.”

            Rafe couldn’t help the color filling his cheeks. “I’m never easy.”

            “You’re right about that.” Sam winked.

            Rafe swore and smacked his arm. Sam just laughed and began to walk down one of the paths, Rafe following along. They heard an explosion in the distance, and some gunfire. Rafe tensed, and Sam’s arm wound its way around him. Rafe jumped, but gave him a little smile.

            Rafe was brought to a small cave that was in some of the rocks. Squeezing in was difficult, but it was fairly spacious once inside. There was a fire going, and many blankets. Rafe recognized some of the equipment that was stolen from his camp. He pointed to it and glanced at Sam, who shrugged. “Hey some of it is mine, too,” Sam said in defense.

            They sat down and were quiet, Sam having a pack of rations. Some meat that he put over the fire, which Rafe huddled beside. “You warming up?”

            “I am,” Rafe mumbled.

            Sam walked to get some canisters of water from a little indent in the cave that he used as a makeshift shelf. Taking a seat beside Rafe, he offered the man water. They exchanged and Rafe took a drink, then looked at Sam. For a moment, Sam didn’t seem to notice. He seemed content with his body huddled up with Rafe, looking into the fire. The fire lit up his features, his eyes. When he turned and looked back at Rafe, his eyes were full of life and joy.

            Rafe wasn’t sure what compelled him.

            This man was his enemy.

            He was supposed to kill these people.

            But he had no idea why.

            And Sam? He didn’t want to. Instead, Rafe wanted to kiss him. So in that cave…

            He did.


	3. Command

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope ya'll are liking this I'm having fun with it.

A game of cat and mouse began after that kiss. Rafe barely knew a thing about Sam, and the same could be said otherwise. When the sun rose up in the sky, Rafe would be one of the first to rise. He was the first to pick his weapons, and he looked on Navarro with challenge. During his time with Sam, Zoran had been killed, leaving Nadine and Marlowe as partners. It stayed that way since. Rafe and Marlowe had originally given Navarro and Nadine the lead, but now Rafe was fighting for control. Every time they were out in the field the two were butting heads.

            There had been a supply drop one of the days. The only way to know was a note appearing in the camp. The locations of the supplies were unknown. That day Nadine and Marlowe were patrol to kill anyone they could. Navarro and Rafe were meant to recover anything they could. They had crept up one of the hills, Rafe with his now-preferred sniper rifle and watching through the scope, Navarro with his revolver, his shotgun slung over his shoulder. “We should go that way,” Navarro had said. Rafe went the other direction instead, no matter how much Navarro had yelled at him. Rafe’s guess produced the largest supply cache, silencing Navarro. The haul won Rafe respect among his peers, and soon they stopped fighting him for control. It was him and Nadine in charge, slowly, and that was how he thought it should be.

            But whenever he crept about and saw a glint in his vision, he looked for the source and saw some wild brown hair ducking down. He would make an excuse to split up, and end up in the little cave in Sam’s embrace. It was an escape from the harsh environment – Sam’s arms, his chest, his mouth, his eyes, his hair. Rafe was tangled in him. They would lie on some blankets, a little fire illuminating the cave. When the sun was sinking low in the horizon, they would kiss and part. Rafe purposely scraped himself on some rocks to make it look like he had been in a fight. Anything he could do to convince his partners that he wasn’t playing around with the enemy.

            If they happened to be caught on the battlefield, they made it a game. They would meet eyes and grin, and Rafe would aim his rifle. “I’ve got that one,” he said. Navarro would nod and sneak away, either to get a good shot at another enemy or to look for one. Sam would run around and duck behind barriers. Rafe would shoot at him, near enough to look as though he was just missing on accident. Then they would meet in the evening and fall into each other’s arms.

            This life didn’t seem so bad to Rafe. He was tired, on edge whenever Sam wasn’t there. But the moment Sam was with him, all the pain and worry and anger fell away.

            Rafe sat up and stretched, watching the glow of the fire brighten the walls of the little cave. Their weapons were propped up on the wall, and some food and other supplies stacked nicely. Turning his head, he smiled when he saw Sam’s back as the man was pulling on a shirt. “Leaving so soon?” he muttered. He reached and brushed his fingers against Sam’s lower back. Sam had so many scars, little lines and bumps under Rafe’s fingers.

            “You do know it’s getting late, right?” Sam said. He glanced over. “You gotta get dressed.”

            “And if I don’t want to?” Rafe leaned on one arm, watching Sam. He glanced down and gave Sam a smirk. “Can’t you leave the pants off for me?”

            “Funny,” Sam said, but he smiled. To Rafe’s disappointment, Sam got himself dressed before he crouched down and kissed Rafe’s forehead. “We can’t take any risks, you know.”

            “I’m not stupid, Samuel,” Rafe muttered. He shifted, sighing when he felt his spine crack and he grew relaxed. “I just…” He closed his eyes. “It would be nice to spend a night here.”

            “Then our buddies on both sides would think we died.”

            “Would that be so bad?”

            Sam raised a brow. “See, Victor and Chloe would probably rip me a new one. I don’t know about your people, but I would rather not have that happen to me.”

            Rafe rolled his eyes and stood, pulling on his own clothes. He felt warm when Sam walked to him and slid his arms around his waist, nuzzling into his neck from behind when he had his trousers on and his shirt on his arms, ready to be pulled on. “I suppose it would be wise to go back…” he replied. “I know that if I were to be late, my partners would likely want to kill me themselves.” When Sam let him go, he finished pulling on his clothes.

            “Well, let’s make sure you don’t get their wrath,” Sam said. He took his weapons, pulling them over his shoulder and into their holsters. Rafe was did the same, and they stamped out the fire. Yet they both stood there, staring at each other. Rafe wanted to move towards Sam, to hide against him, forget what they had to do, what they were doing. Getting out of here was an option, right?

            Sam seemed to know what he was thinking. He shook his head and gestured outside the cave. “It doesn’t work like that,” he said. “Believe me. I’ve tried… you have. We tried.” He sighed and scratched the back of his neck. “Rafe, I have no idea how we’re supposed to get out of this.”

            “We can figure it out,” Rafe said. “If you don’t think you can figure it out, leave it to me.”

            Sam’s eyes became distant. Rafe held his breath.

            “You said that before.” Sam turned and left the cave.

            Rafe watched after him in disbelief. Sam looked as though he was mourning someone who was dead. Rafe felt a twist in his stomach. He was alive. He was right there. It was him, just like that one who had died was him. It was him, why was Sam acting like he was suddenly rebounding? He closed his eyes and paced the cave. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

            He reached down and touched his wrist.

            He jumped.

            Looking down, there was a watch there. It wasn’t his. It was clearly Sam’s, old and cracked and a little dirty, but still functioning. “Sam…” He peeked his head out of the cave, but Sam wasn’t there. He looked down at his wrist. He wondered how the watch got on his wrist. Then he remembered – Sam wasn’t wearing a watch…

            Rafe touched the little face of the watch, and felt it thrumming beneath his finger. He closed his eyes, focusing on the tick. It lulled him from his anger, and he let out a soft breath. Making sure the blankets were rolled up and the fire was out, he gripped the strap of his rifle and left the cave.

            The sun was almost fully set when Rafe got back to the camp. Marlowe was standing there, her gun in hand, the fire to her back. She was keeping watch as Navarro and Nadine were making food. Their piles of rations were stacked behind some rocks, and Rafe felt relieved to see them. They had some food in the cave, but it wasn’t enough for a meal. Just snacking.

            “You’re late,” Marlowe said. Her voice was cold, raising a brow at him. “You had better have some kind of excuse, Adler.”

            “Katherine,” Rafe said. He gave a little smile. “Did you kill off Chloe or did she shoot your hip again?”

            Marlowe’s eyes narrowed, and they both glanced at the bandage wrapped around her waist. “Better get that checked again soon,” Rafe added, giving her a little wave as he passed her. He removed his rifle, putting it on their makeshift rack before taking a seat beside Nadine.

            “I see you were gone a while,” Navarro commented. He was working on a little stew. Their pot was one of Zoran’s old helmets. Rafe had noticed how big of a guy Zoran was. Turned out his helmet was the perfect material and size for a stirring pot to hang above a camp fire. “Find anything? Kill anyone?”

            Rafe shook his head. “Nothing interesting happened,” he said. “I had chased someone down, but it was clear they knew that area better than I did. Couldn’t get a good look through my scope, they were gone pretty fast.”

            “That could have ended badly,” Navarro said. He tapped the little profile folders that sat on one of their chairs. “So we eliminated most of them. Who do we have left?”

            “Just three,” Nadine said. “Chloe Frazer, Victor Sullivan, and Samuel Drake.”

            “It’ll be a breeze,” Rafe said. “Victor is slow. He’s good at hiding but once you find him you can get him pretty easy. Chloe isn’t the best at being subtle, but she’s got a good arm. I’ve seen it.”

            “You saw it?” Navarro said. He looked a little angry, more than ready to correct Rafe on such a comment.

            “Through my scope,” Rafe said. “I saw her take down Talbot like it was no problem. She’s good at holding herself far range, but that’s how you want to get her. If she gets close range?” He made a quick gesture to his neck. “You don’t stand a chance.”

            “I’ll take note,” Navarro said. He looked over to Marlowe. They all did. It was clear to see how tense her body was at the mention of Talbot. Normally they tried not to mention him after he had died. Everyone figured those two knew each other outside of this place, because they had bonded rather quick. That was how they figured out Rafe and Nadine had worked together. The two were in synch almost instantly.

            The rest of the night, they spoke of tactics and plans. Rafe had a difficulty paying attention, his eyes fixated on the fire and his mind far from their camp. It was back in that little cave, where he was with Sam, his whole mind and heart and body involved with him. Waking up from resting to see Sam laying there beside him, chest rising and falling slowly, and feeling happy. Sam holding him. Pulling him close. Kissing him. The heat and the pain and the pleasure and how it all seemed to mix together. Rafe shifted and closed his eyes a moment. He felt a soreness in his body. He leaned propped himself up on his arms, his elbows against his legs, so that he could cover the small smile on his face.

            Rafe was able to sleep right away, though rest did not come easily to him. Lying in some sleeping bag by himself, Sam not there, made him restless and annoyed. Eventually he was able to find enough comfort to sleep, though he didn’t sleep long. He was he second to last shift, the sky a little lighter than it had been when darkness had fallen. The entire time his mind was on Sam, and wanting to go back to their little cave, their little retreat.

            Morning hit and they all agreed upon a new tactic – they had gone on assault for many days now and produced no luck. The last three that were there had managed to evade them. That day, as the sun rose, they agreed, scouting and searching for supplies, and, if they were lucky, the enemy camp. Rafe felt his heart flutter. That meant a whole day with Sam. He practically rushed to his sniper rifle and ran off, though he was careful to make sure he didn’t go directly there. He made stops, taking his time to get to the cave. He let almost two hours pass by the time he made it there.

            To his dismay, Sam wasn’t there. The blankets weren’t rolled out, and the small fire pit they made still holding the ashy remains of the previous fire. Rafe decided to clean up the ashes, hiding them so that nobody would find the traces, and he unrolled some of the blankets. Propping up his guns, he lied down and watched the entrance to the cave, waiting. The sun was getting bright, and there was no need for a fire during these hours. The sun was perfectly in line with the entrance.

            Rafe waited for hours. He lied there, and a few times he had dozed off. Even if Sam wasn’t there, his smell was, and that alone was a comfort to Rafe that allowed him to rest. He would wake, sit up, look around, peek outside, and he grew more and more annoyed that he wasn’t showing up. A few times he heard gunfire, but when he managed a peek, he would see Marlowe and Chloe, or Victor with his gun at Navarro. None of them mattered, and Rafe didn’t bother to concern himself with them. He just wanted Sam. Once Sam turned up, everything would be fine.

            Yet he needed to build a fire at noon. He ate some of the snack rations, listening to the sound of the fire crackle and his watch tick along in time. No Sam.

            He paced the cave, listening to his footsteps bounce off the walls. No Sam.

            Outside the cave it was beginning to grow dark. The early dim hours, Rafe wanted to stay as long as he could. In another hour or two, it would get darker, and Rafe would have to go back to his camp.

            Rafe sat by the entrance in doubt. He didn’t look it, but he was afraid. If Sam had gotten shot on his way here, he wouldn’t have even known about it. If what Sam told him was true, he then Sam would come back after they killed all his allies, but he wouldn’t remember Rafe. What if Sam wanted to hurt him? His mind went through possibility after possibility when he heard footsteps at the entrance to the cave.

            Growing tense, Rafe reached and grabbed his pistol. He raised it a little, watching the entrance. He didn’t even breathe. The trudging steps seemed to be dragging, and there were heavy breaths of exhaustion.

            Then Sam was standing there. He gave Rafe a smile. He was covered in blood and cuts, but there weren’t bullet wounds, and he looked pretty okay despite the injuries. “Made it,” he whispered.

            Rafe stood, dropping his gun, and he moved to Sam. “Look at you,” Rafe said. “You idiot, what did you do?”

            “Your buddy Ross was after me for quite a while,” Sam said with a little laugh. “But I managed to get away. Still, felt like a goddamn rabbit.”

            Rafe couldn’t help but smile. They sat there at the entrance, and Rafe began to look over his wounds. “Be more careful,” he muttered. “I don’t want you dying. You’re already a stupid jackass, I don’t want you to be even worse when we all reset.”

            Sam gave him that winning smile, and Rafe melted.

            Rafe looked into Sam’s eyes, and he saw the affection there, and he melted more. Leaning in, Rafe touched Sam’s chin with the tips of his fingers. Sam leaned to him as well, their lips inches from each other’s. Breaths gentle and soft on the other, eyes closing…

            Sam fell.

            Rafe’s eyes widened. He tasted blood in his mouth. The bullet had passed right through Sam’s neck, and blood covered the entrance of the cave floor to ceiling. Rafe was completely covered.

            Sam’s head rolled to the side, his body slackening. Rafe covered his mouth, heart stopping. Blood oozed from his neck, which had been torn apart by the bullet. Skin torn, flesh hanging, and Rafe could see the muscles. He gagged and reeled back.

            And then, with this image haunting Rafe’s eyes, he felt as though he was leaving his body.

            His vision filled with white.

            But he did not forget that sight. He knew what this meant.

            Sam was the last kill. They won. And they were being reset.


	4. Mystical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been gone so long I've had a hard time feeling inspired to write but hey here I am!
> 
> Also in case people on tumblr are confused where I went, I had an anxiety attack and deleted, my new tumblr is fieryhealermage heeeeyyyyy
> 
> This is kind of short sorry and also kinda crappy but it's the best I can do right now

Rafe couldn’t sleep. The whole night he stared at the little fire set up in the middle of the small room that his team was gathered in. The large manor towered just outside, lights aglow. The doors were all locked, and refuge within was impossible. Standing and keeping watch was Rameses, leaning against the well and keeping his eyes focused in the darkness. Though he liked to joke and play around, he was a serious fighter and very skilled. Most of the others were asleep, except for Navarro. Rafe had never seen Navarro sleep, sometimes he wondered if the guy even did. Navarro had been through so many resets, witnessed so many things. Both him and Nadine had survived for some time, it was a miracle at all that Nadine was sleeping, Rafe supposed.

            But Rafe couldn’t sleep. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the blood leaking from Sam’s neck, his body still on the cave floor. It made Rafe’s stomach twist, the taste of vomit in his mouth. He had barely gotten sleep the past few days. The moments he got of sleep were nightmares. A part of him wanted to die, wanted to reset and forget what he saw. But if he did, then neither he or Sam would understand the world around them. He couldn’t be there for Sam, explain everything to him. Sam wouldn’t last, and neither would he. It was a risk he wasn’t interested in taking.

            Seeing as sleep wasn’t an option, Rafe sat up and stretched his arms. Navarro looked over, eyes half-lidded, and he shook his head. “It’s not your shift, Adler,” he said.

            “I don’t care,” Rafe replied. He stood and shifted so his back cracked, and let out a sigh. “Can’t sleep.”

            “Cuddle your twin,” Navarro said with an eye roll. Rafe glanced down at Harry, who was snoring. His arms were wrapped around Zoran’s leg. That would be interesting to wake up to later.

            “Not interested.” Rafe stepped over sleeping people. Only one person had died the past few days of their group, which was fairly impressive. Eddy had fallen. Or, rather, Navarro had used him as a human shield without shame. Navarro’s only defense was that Eddy was injured anyway, and getting him back would have been too difficult, but everyone was easily warier of Navarro after that. “I’m going to go take a look around, maybe set up some traps.”

            “Adler going to do some reconnaissance?” Navarro commented.

            Rameses turned his head and grinned. “Our little baby is growing up,” he added.

            Rafe glared at them both, grabbing his sniper rifle and a pistol. “Shut up and get out of my way.” He grabbed a pack of mines, shoving past Rameses, who laughed.

            “Just don’t do anything stupid,” Navarro called after him.

            Rafe wandered towards the mansion, pistol in his hand. He didn’t really have to sneak around – even in the lamp light it was still very dark, and they never saw anyone wander this close to their camp. Going into one of the entry halls, Rafe crouched down and pulled a mine from his pack. He placed it on the floor, careful not to hold it in a way that could set it off, and began to set it up. He wandered down a few of the little entry halls they had access to, going around a large fountain that sat in the middle of the little courtyard outside.

            As he was hunched over, setting up another, Rafe looked down at the fountain, watching the water stream from it into the pool. It was beautiful and relaxing to him, and after setting up the mine, he hopped down from the window and walked to it. Leaning on its edge, he closed his eyes and focused on the water. He tried to imagine a waterfall, a little creek, something that he could sit beside and feel and listen to. Something more than the fountain. His arms relaxed, his shoulders slumping, and he sighed.

            Then there was the sound of footsteps behind him, destroying the peace of the fountain.

            Rafe turned and saw a man across the courtyard. It was too dark to see who it was, but Rafe saw the glint of a gun raised and he felt his heart pick up in an instant. He dropped down, holding his pistol close to his chest. The footsteps began to move around the fountain. Rafe began to scoot, crawling away from the steps. There was something in him that hoped it was Rameses or Navarro pranking him, maybe they woke Harry up and got him to do it. An attempt to teach him a lesson or some kind of bullshit like that.

            Yet he knew it was someone else. It was an enemy. He had no idea who, and he wasn’t in the mood to start late night fighting.

            There was a splash of water, then sloshing as someone walked through the fountain. Rafe held his breath, risking a peek into the fountain, raising his gun as he did. Just as he saw the inside of the fountain, hands grabbed him, dragging him in.

            “Hey! Let go!” Rafe shouted. His body was lifted, then hurled into the fountain. His back slammed into the base of the fountain, and Rafe felt a weight on top of him. Hands pressed down on his shoulders, which had a stinging hot pain from colliding with the stone of the fountain, and he was pushed under the water.

            Rafe didn’t have time to take a breath, and water quickly began to fill his lungs as a result of shouting. He raised his gun but the man slapped it away. Legs kicking under the man, arms gripping the man’s and trying to push them off, Rafe felt his chest tighten. His mouth hurt, his head began to feel light. His eyes stung, and his body was sore. Of all the ways he was going to be killed, and it was being drowned in a shallow fountain. How delightful.

            Despite being stuck under the stranger, Rafe managed to shift his leg enough to kick up, his knee connecting with the man’s stomach. The grip on his shoulders loosened, and Rafe pushed up, forcing the man off him. The man fell and Rafe sat up, pulling out of the water and gasping for breath. He began to cough up the water, hunched and heaving, and turned to look at the man. “Wh-What the hell is your…”

            Sam looked back at him, holding up his gun. His eyes were intense.

            “Sam…?” Rafe coughed and gripped his stomach. Hearing his name made Sam hesitate, his gun lowering a fraction. Rafe noticed, though. “Sam, wait… wait… Don’t do that, hold on…”

            “Okay, obviously there’s a misunderstanding here,” Sam said. He looked confused. “See, what I got from all this is we’re supposed to go out and kill people, not make friends. You, on the other hand, seem to have gotten the exact opposite information. Now I’m confused. You have guns. What are you supposed to do with ‘em, hug ‘em?”

            Rafe stared at him. He suddenly wished Sam would have drowned him so he didn’t have to hear any of that.

            “We… We are, we are.” Rafe leaned back on the edge of the fountain, letting his head rest on it. “Just give me a moment to explain, though, okay?”

            Sam raised a brow but shrugged. “I got nothing better to do,” he said. “Tell your tall tale my friend.”

            “Boyfriend,” Rafe corrected. He tensed the moment he said it. It came out of his mouth so casually. When Sam was with him, he had difficulty saying it before. Now this Sam, who had no idea who he was or that they had been together, heard it right from Rafe’s mouth.

            “What?”

            Rafe stared at Sam, silent. Leaning against the fountain, Rafe looked up at the dark sky above and shook his head. He was beginning to understand how awkward and uncomfortable it must have been for Sam when he had last spoken to Rafe, trying to explain to Rafe who they were to each other. Would he even be able to do that with this Sam? Were they somehow different? Or was it just his Sam with missing memories?

            “Okay, okay, start from the beginning,” Sam said. They were now easily getting soaked by the fountain, but neither man was bothered. “Boyfriend? What the hell are you talking about?”

            Rafe sighed and shook his head. “This is stupid,” he muttered. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to explain this.”

            “Well, you might as well start from the top,” Sam replied.

            There didn’t seem to be much else of a choice. Rafe could have easily killed Sam there if he wanted, he knew that was true. But it wasn’t something he felt prepared to do. He didn’t want to kill Sam. He didn’t want that kind of blood on his hands. Instead he just sat there, shook his head, and let out various colorful swears as he told all of his memories to Sam. From the moment they had met to his memory, to when Sam was shot.

            “Then we reset to this world,” Rafe said. “And I remembered it all. And now here you are, you forgot and I’m the one who remembers. For god’s sake, this whole thing is pointless you should just drown me now or I’ll shoot you in the head.”

            Sam looked surprised, taking in the story with silence. He had hardly moved or made a sound, the only indication of his reactions being expressions on his face. Eventually, the man looked Rafe over, and smiled. “Was I good in that cave though?”

            “Samuel!” Rafe splashed water in his face. “Don’t be a prick!”

            “You’re the prick!” Sam said. But he seemed to grow comfortable there. He even slid over by Rafe, settling in beside him. “Anyway, that’s one crazy story you got there.”

            “Believe me, I know,” Rafe said. He closed his eyes, his knees coming up to his chest. “It’s all ridiculous sounding, yet I don’t know how else to explain it.”

            “That’s not shit you can just make up,” Sam said. He watched the water spilling from the fountain, a familiar little twinkle in his eye that always made Rafe feel warm and proud. “So what do we do from here?”

            “We try to stay alive, and figure out how the fuck to get out of here.”

            An arm rested around Rafe’s shoulders. “So we reset,” Sam said. His voice was low now. “We just forget everything before that moment.”

            “You forgot about the light?”

            “What? ‘Course not. Just wasn’t sure what the hell it was.”

            Without thinking about it, Rafe leaned into Sam, resting his head on the man’s chest. They sat there, toes slowly numbing from the water, and other than little shivers, neither of them seemed bothered. Outside the manor, the sky began to turn a blue and pink.

            “It’ll be daylight soon,” Rafe said. He watched the fountain grow and expand its reach, water shining in the near morning sunrise.

            “Yeah.” Sam’s hand squeezed Rafe’s shoulder. “Supposed I should get back.”

            “Me, too.”

            Before the sun rose, before the stirring of their companions, Rafe and Sam leaned in, just as the gleaming light peeked up from behind them, bathing them in a warm glow. Their lips met in holy, blessed light. Rafe wasn’t a believer, but it felt, even if for a moment, as though he had just been in the waters of rebirth.

            But, then again, he was just kissing a man who tried to drown him.

            An incredibly gorgeous man.

            Rafe smiled against Sam’s lips.

            What the hell, they were in this together.


End file.
